On Valentine's Day: Sam and Tucker
by Tavalya Ra
Summary: Even if goths thrive on gloom, Tucker doesn’t think Sam ought to be miserable on Valentine’s Day.


**On Valentine's Day: Sam and Tucker**

by Tavalya Ra

E-mail: clearbluedelphia at yahoo dot com

Rating: PG

Category: Romance and drama.

Summary: Even if goths thrive on gloom, Tucker doesn't think Sam ought to be miserable on Valentine's Day.

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is owned by Butch Hartman. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Notes: Written as a self-challenge for Valentine's Day. Sam and Tucker are about sixteen in this story.

* * *

Despite the crush of students filling Casper High's cafeteria, Sam proved easy for Tucker to spot; she had managed to acquire a table for her lonesome, no doubt using her gothic anti-charms to repel undesirable company. Glad that Danny hadn't arrived yet, he approached, telling himself that it was now or never. If he dawdled, he knew he would lose his nerve. 

Nearing the table, he realized that Sam wasn't in her usual mode of deliberate gloom. Her expression of loneliness was too forlorn for him to believe it intentional or satisfying; she was genuinely depressed. Setting his tray across from hers, he sat.

"Where's Danny?" he asked, knowing their mutual friend was the likely source of her sadness. A sudden wave of disappointment hit him; even if Sam was happy, what he had planned was a stupid idea and he should have realized it. Time to abort the program, he decided.

She sighed. "Talking to that new girl- the one he's been making puppy dog eyes at since September."

Tucker frowned. "Sam… have you ever considered that if Danny actually knew how you felt then he-"

"I'm over Danny," she said quietly.

He blinked and managed to utter, "You- you are?"

"I'm over him," she repeated. "Yeah, I really, _really_ liked him, but he never felt the same way… and that means it wouldn't have worked. I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself because…"

"Because?" he prompted gently as her voice trailed off.

She lowered her eyes, her cheeks turning red. "Because I've made the same mistake again. I've fallen for a guy who has no idea how I feel about him, who I know doesn't look at me that way…" She growled and pounded her fist against the table, rattling the silverware on their trays. "I hate that I do this to myself. I hate making myself miserable! I wish Valentine's Day would just sink into a black hole so I didn't have to think about how much I really do care after all!"

Only because her eyes were turned towards her peas and not his face did Tucker allow himself to look at her with sympathy and longing. He couldn't tell her that he understood without revealing too much. At the least, he wanted to hug her, but he knew she would bite his arm if he tried.

Clearing his throat, he suggested, "Sam, why don't you just tell him? Whoever it is."

Her head snapped up and she glared as if he had offered her a hamburger. "If you knew who he was, you wouldn't be so quick to suggest that," she responded defensively. "I know how he feels. Saying anything is just going to make things awkward."

"Awkward? Then it's someone that we-"

"It's none of your business," she snapped. "Why don't you just leave me alone to mope in private?"

At another point in time, he might have heeded her request. Yet he couldn't stand to watch her tear herself apart over another boy again; he hated that she thought she was unloved, when he knew it wasn't true. He was petrified by the same fear that paralyzed her- that to say anything would destroy the friendship that already existed- but he realized he would hate himself if this time he stayed silent.

"I won't," he insisted. "Because you're my friend and I care. You need to talk to this guy. If he deserves you, he's not going to blow you off- and if he doesn't, it's better you find out now that he's a jerk. And I want you to know…" Tucker stopped as his voice almost cracked from nerves. Now or never, he told himself again. He took a breath and finished awkwardly, "I know we're just friends. And what I'm doing might be stupid, because I don't want that to go away. But here. This is for you."

Hastily, he shoved a small black box tied with a purple ribbon across the table. Sam gave him a puzzled look and then undid the bow to open it. Inside was a pair of slightly mismatched triangular earrings, dark silver painted with black streaks.

Sam's mouth opened slightly, her jaw slack for a moment. Then, her voice trilling awkwardly, she said, "Wow. They're great, Tuck. I mean it. Where did you get them?"

"Remember when Technus fried my PDA?" he asked, trying not to wince. An uncomfortable twinge passed through his stomach as he wondered what she interpreted the gift to mean. "I couldn't fix it, so I took it apart. I used some of the tools in my dad's garage to make those from the case."

"You made these from your _PDA?_" she questioned, sounding stunned. "From your _baby_?"

"Well, from my dead baby."

"That's… no one's ever done something like that for me."

"Then it's about time someone did," he declared, suddenly feeling fierce despite his nerves. "You deserve it, Sam, and if whoever your new guy is doesn't know it, then it's not your loss. So, go on. It's Valentine's Day, Sam- you should go up to whoever it is and tell him-"

"It's you."

Sam's words reached his ears, but his brain was unable to process them. His neurons, attempting to calculate the data, responded with the error message "does not compute."

"What?" he asked stupidly.

In response, Sam blushed. "I like you, Tucker. You're sorta the reason I got over Danny. But you always chase after other girls-"

"I used to want other girls," he admitted. "I didn't stop chasing them because I didn't want you to know."

Sam's hand reached across the table to clutch his.

"I guess we've both been kinda stupid," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed and couldn't help but smile. "You got any plans for after school?"

"Not unless you count watching my fellow goths burn Cupid in effigy at my favorite book store," she quipped. "And right now, that doesn't appeal to me as much as it did this morning."

"Then do you want to do something?" he asked. "It's only noon. Valentine's Day isn't over yet."

A warm fluttering filled his chest as she smiled and answered, "Sure."


End file.
